


Breaking Hearts and Windows

by MaverikLoki, Ywain Penbrydd (penbrydd)



Series: A Comedy of Assholes (Rhapsody, etc.) [6]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Horny Teenagers, M/M, Magical Accidents, Mayhem, Protective Older Brothers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-12
Updated: 2016-03-12
Packaged: 2018-05-26 05:32:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6225916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaverikLoki/pseuds/MaverikLoki, https://archiveofourown.org/users/penbrydd/pseuds/Ywain%20Penbrydd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theron Mahariel has had his eye on Artemis Hawke since the first day he saw that drop-dead gorgeous shemlen standing in the road. And Artie's brother keeps bringing him around. And Theron's feeling pretty lucky, today -- even after things go stupidly wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking Hearts and Windows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shadowfire_RavenPheonix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowfire_RavenPheonix/gifts).



> For [Shadowfire_RavenPheonix](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowfire_RavenPheonix/pseuds/Shadowfire_RavenPheonix), who put the 3,000th comment on Rhapsody.

It was longer than they meant to stop, but every day, the two shemlen came back. The older one always sat by the fire and debated the finer points of history with Hahren Paivel, and the younger one would disappear into the woods with Mahariel. No one much seemed to mind. They were teenagers -- teenage _shemlen_ , but they were polite.

The mid-spring breeze was warm, as it fluttered the leaves around Theron. He wasn't much good as a hunter, really, but what he was good at wasn't that impressive, and certainly not to the pretty shemlen at his side. But, he didn't think Artemis would know the difference, as long as he actually made the kill, and so he crouched, still, bow drawn, until the young boar turned just right, finally catching their scent. Unsurprising, considering how much he was sweating, in that moment. Boars were one of the more dangerous things to hunt, and he'd been hoping for a nice deer or something, but he wasn't going to turn down this opportunity -- or forget that a boar could actually kill them both. He loosed the arrow and drew another before it hit, greatly relieved when the first struck true. It wasn't an eye shot, like some of the actual hunters could manage, but the boar went down, all the same, and it wouldn't be getting back up.

Tucking the arrow back into his quiver, he watched Artemis, for a moment, then reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind that lovely round ear. "And that is the Dalish way," he said, quietly, looking a bit smug, even as his heart hammered in his chest.

Artemis looked up at him shyly. He could still feel the brush of Theron's skin against his ear long after Theron had pulled his hand away. "That was... wow," he said, only to want to kick himself immediately after. 'That was wow'. Who says that? "You're very good with this." Artie touched the tip of Theron's bow. It was a simple thing, little more than wood and string, but Theron had carved a few whorling details on either side of the grip, and Artie traced them with his finger.

That shot was lucky, if Theron were honest, but the pretty thing next to him didn't need to know that. He puffed out his chest and crowded closer, their elbows knocking. "It is not so difficult," he said modestly. "You put one hand here..." He took Artie's hand, gently, and placed it over the bow's grip, his stomach thrilling when Artie let him. "And the other here." He did the same with Artie's other hand, on the bowstring. "Curl these fingers under. Good." 

Theron's hand lingered longer than necessary on Artemis's, and Artie bit his lip to keep from grinning like a fool. "So, you hold it like this?" He twisted the bow, avoided hitting Theron in the thigh and in the process almost smacked him in the nose instead. "Oh, Maker's shit! Sorry!"

Leaning back to dodge Artie's elbow, Theron nearly overbalanced, wobbling precariously on his toes, for a moment. "Are all your people so graceful?" Theron teased, fingers sliding over Artie's to hold the bowstring. If there was one thing he was sure of, it was that he didn't want to lose his fingers or any other body parts if Artemis slipped and let go. Still, this left him pressed tight against Artie's back, and he hoped his alternative, non-educational interest in this situation wasn't as obvious to Artie as it was to him.

"See? It's not so hard." _Brilliant, Theron. Draw even more attention to that._ "But, if you keep bending back like that, you're going to lose a nipple. So, just bring your hands back together, slowly. Don't let go." His arms slowly closed around Artemis's chest, cheek pressed to the back of the shemlen's neck. They were almost of a height, Theron had noticed. Most shemlen were towering tall, but this one was just a little higher than his own head, and he liked it. Sleek, slim, and round-eared -- and so very warm.

Slowly, Artemis did as instructed, letting the bowstring guide his hands back together. He could manage that, at least, no matter how distracting Theron's weight at his back was. The arms around his chest were, he suspected, not just there to help with his posture. "It's... probably best I don't try this with an actual arrow," Artie said with a nervous laugh. Nervous. He hoped he didn't _sound_ nervous. "My brother says my aim is terrible, and we don't want any casualties besides the boar." He turned a smile over his shoulder, even if Theron couldn't see it.

Theron's hands wandered, one hand counting up the ribs on Artemis's side and the other sliding down, slowly, to come to a lingering, tense-fingered stop against Artemis's belly. "Terrible aim? Hmm... maybe we should bring this boar back to camp, and then I can show you some exercises for that. Make sure your hands follow your eyes, instead of wandering off on their own." He withdrew his own hands, reluctantly, fingertips trailing over the loose cloth of Artie's shirt.

Artie's back felt cold without Theron pressed against it. "My hands... tend to do that." Artemis didn't so much say the words as let them slip out. "Wander, that is. Er... not in a--!" Artie coughed into his fist and let his hair fall in front of his face, hoping it would hide his cheeks' embarrassed shade. "That is to say, yes, that sounds like a good idea." He pressed Theron's bow back into its owner's hands.

"That's what we'll do, then." Theron hoped he looked as smooth as he sounded and that the tips of his ears weren't glowing red, as he stepped back and slung the bow across his back. "You show me how your hands wander, and I'll show you how to make them go where you want." He raised his eyebrows suggestively as he backed toward the boar, unspooling the narrow rope at his belt. "Just find me a stick about as tall as you are, so we can carry this thing. We'll have meat, meat, and meat tomorrow, if you're coming back."

* * *

Artemis tried to help Theron carry the boar back to camp, but Theron had puffed out his chest again and been insistent that he could carry it on his own. Instead, Artie watched him pretend not to stagger under its weight as they cut through the woods, making for the aravel sails Artie could just see peeking through the trees. Once in the camp, Artie's gaze sought out his brother before he even realised he was looking for him, but Cormac was right where he had left him, still pestering Hahren Paivel with his questions.

Paivel, at least, looked amused. Twice as amused, when he caught sight of the two boys staggering back into the camp. "Looks like your brother's got stars in his eyes," he said, poking at the fire.

"As long as he's still got eyes, and neither of them are black, I'm not too worried." Cormac looked to the side and waved to Artie, breathing a sigh of relief that the two of them had been out doing something reasonable, like hunting. Maybe Artie's confidence and aim would improve, if he kept hanging around with this elf. It could be a good thing. "So, do you guys have the story of Warden Garahel?" he asked Paivel, bringing the conversation back around to famous elves.

Artemis waved back and shook his head. "I thought they would have run out of stories by now," he said with mock exasperation.

"Stories? Never," Theron replied. "That's why we keep making new ones." He grinned at Artie and called out to an elven woman, hefting the boar up as high into the air as he could. "Adahl! Andruil smiles upon me this day, lethallan!"

Adahl looked up from the fire she was building up. "Killed a boar, did you? With the shem's help? Bring it here, and let us have a look."

Theron staggered over, dragging the other end of the pole across the ground, but keeping the boar high enough not to scrape. "One shot! And it's pretty big, too!"

Adahl nodded, a hint of a smile playing around the corners of her mouth. The boar wasn't that large, as far as boars went, but everyone knew Theron had been trying to impress this shemlen. "You're getting better!" she assured him. "A boar, this time. That's pretty bold."

"That's me. Bold." Theron grinned and put his hands on his hips.

"Remind me again why you're not still a hunter?" Adahl asked, untying the boar from the pole, to start preparing it.

Sudden red flashed across Theron's cheeks and ears. "Well, because Paivel needed an apprentice, of course! I've got a really good memory!" Actually, it was because he couldn't usually sit still long enough to get anything close enough to shoot. "We'll just, um... over there. Come on, Artemis, I want to show you something."

"Pfft, his mi'nehn!" Tamlen called.

Artemis flushed from his cheeks to his ears. He had never heard the term 'mi'nehn' before, but he could make an educated guess as to its meaning. Theron picked up a rock and tossed it at Tamlen's head, almost disappointed when the cackling fool ducked in time.

"Fenedhis," Theron muttered, taking the shem's arm. "Ignore him, Artemis. Let's go inside." He indicated his aravel with a tip of his head, his voice almost rising in a question at this last word.

"I can't say you've shown me the inside before," Artemis said with a shy half-smile. "I'm a bit curious."

"There's a lot of good things I haven't shown you, yet," Theron said, with a grin, holding the door open, as he ignored pointed whistling from across the camp. He'd deal with those two, later.

Marethari turned from a conversation she was having on the far side of the cooking fire, set to put a stop to this, but Ashalle caught her arm.

"What's the harm, Keeper? They're just boys. Maybe Theron will be a good influence on that shemlen. We can use all the help we can get."

Marethari shook her arm free. "Just like his father. He doesn't think! And what happens when that shemlen goes back home with our secrets? I'm not worried about the other one. Paivel's old enough to know better. But, these two..." She shook her head.

"I don't think Theron's sharing those sorts of secrets," Ashalle said with a small smile.

Artemis ducked into the aravel, tucking his hair behind his ears to see better. It was small, of course, little more than a place to sleep, but not so different from what Artie was used to. "A bit like our wagon," Artemis said, still with that shy smile. "A bit brighter, perhaps." The 'ceiling' wasn't entirely closed off, and Artie could see the sails' red fabric through the opening.

"It's not much," Theron said with a self-deprecating shrug, "but it's comfortable." He gestured for Artie to have a seat on what Artemis assumed was his bed, or at least bedroll, judging by the pillows, and Artie obeyed, wishing his cheeks would stop burning.

"It's cosy," Artemis agreed as Theron joined him, and suddenly Artemis didn't know what to do with his hands.

Theron cleared his throat and glanced around the room. This sort of thing had never been difficult for him, but with this very pretty shemlen sitting on his bed, he was suddenly a lot more nervous than he'd expected. "It's even cosier with the blankets on you instead of under you," he said, reaching out to pull a corner of the surprisingly fluffy quilt over Artie's shoulder. "Gull down, from off the coast of Gwaren. Warm and very, very soft."

His hands lingered on the edge of the blanket, face mere inches from Artemis's, and smiling stupidly. "You, ah... you smell good. Anyone ever tell you that?"

Artie's heart pounded loud enough to fill the small space. "I... no, I can't say anyone has," he said with a nervous laugh. The quilt _was_ surprisingly soft under his fidgeting fingers, and Artie knew there was an invitation there, in the way Theron tugged at the quilt. 

Theron was already so very close, and he smelled nice too, now that Artemis thought about it. Like grass and sun-soaked skin and like the mint leaves he liked to chew. Artie suddenly wished he'd thought to pluck a few leaves of his own, but Theron didn't seem to mind his breath, not with the way the elf was looking at his lips.

Thinking. He was overthinking this. Artie took a steadying breath and closed the few inches between them.

Theron's arms slid around the pretty shemlen, pulling Artemis closer. This was it -- Artemis was actually _kissing him_! His eyes slid shut as he pushed for more, sucking and nibbling at those sweet lips. For a moment, Theron thought of how much trouble Tamlen and Ghilan'asha were going to give him, later, but that didn't matter. He'd hold it over them for years that he'd lain with a shemlen, that he'd tempted and tamed one of those wild, round-eared savages, and such an outrageously pretty one.

Round ears... Theron raised a fingertip and traced the curve of Artemis's ear, so different to his own. Such soft skin against his own callused hands. He'd wanted, before. He'd had, before. But, he'd never wanted quite like this, and this strange, exotic beauty seemed to want him, too, and that was the best part.

Theron's light touch tickled, and it startled Artie into almost biting Theron's tongue. Theron pulled back, concerned he'd done something wrong. Did shemlen not like having their ears touched? Was it uncomfortable or taboo in some way? But before he could ask, the pretty shem was leaning into him again, breathing a laugh and a sheepish apology against his lips.

"Sorry! Just startled me is all," Artie assured him between kisses. "This isn't-- That is, I haven't..." His cheeks burned hotter still while Artie tried to figure where he could put his hands. Around Theron's waist seemed safest, and Theron didn't seem to mind. Maker, he was making a fool of himself, wasn't he? But, no, there he went, overthinking again, and this was really so much easier when he wasn't thinking.

"Mmm?" Theron hummed, absently, rubbing a hand against the back of Artemis's neck. "You haven't what?"

He stopped suddenly, as a thousand things raced through his head. Was there some shemlen thing that was supposed to happen here, that he wasn't aware of? "Did I do something wrong? Do your people do this differently? It's so simple for us Dalish. But, maybe you have some shemlen customs for things like this? I'll learn them, if you show me."

He'd do almost anything, if it would end with Artemis's naked body wrapped around him. He'd taken down a boar, today. Some shemlen ritual stuff would be easy, after that.

"I..." And now suddenly Artemis wondered if they _did_ do things differently. He had no idea. The parts were the same, weren't they? He'd always assumed... "No, I just mean, I... I haven't exactly... I haven't done this before." His cheeks hurt from all the blushing, and he let his hair fall down around his cheeks to hide them. "You haven't done anything wrong. I'm just a bit nervous." Artie hoped Theron found nervous stuttering sexy. Or at least not off-putting.

"I'm flattered." Theron was aiming for a predatory smile, but he just looked relieved. "Not sure you can get what you need, back home, so you've come to try the best the Dales have to offer? I'd be happy to help with that, you know."

Leaning forward, Theron rubbed his cheek against that burning blush and whispered in Artemis's ear. "Let me show you the Dalish ways. You don't like it, we'll make something up. But, I think you'll like it." He paused, one hand gently kneading Artemis's thigh. "Well, I like it, anyway, and we like a lot of the same things, right?"

Artie bit his lip around a grin, taking advantage of Theron's closeness to trace the graceful point of his ear the way Theron had traced the slope of his earlier. As nervous as he was, he liked the way Theron looked at him, like he was something to be devoured. 

"I suppose we do," he murmured. "And today has been... rather educational already, hasn't it?" The hand touching Theron's ear trailed down to trace his neck instead. "So are you the best the Dales has to offer, then?" Artie teased. "This is a proven fact?"

"I've had no complaints," Theron boasted, hoping Ghilan'asha wouldn't say anything to contradict him. She hadn't actually _complained_ , he supposed, but she hadn't been impressed, and she was still rolling her eyes about it. He tugged at Artemis's shirt. "Here, take this off. I want to see more of the prettiest shemlen in Ferelden." And he wasn't sure that was true, either, but if it wasn't, he was going to be _very_ surprised, later in life.

Blue eyes sparkled with amusement as Artemis pulled his shirt over his head. "My brother's the only other shemlen you've seen," Artie reminded him. "It's not much of a competition." He took a moment to fold his shirt before setting it aside, forcing himself not to fuss with it for too long, even if it provided a good excuse to delay seeing Theron's reaction. He was a bit on the thin side, but maybe that was a good thing to an elf.

Theron looked a bit dazed, lip caught in the side of his teeth, eyes wide enough they might fall out of his head. He tried to pull himself together, to say something smart or witty, but all that came out was a strangled sound of desire. Clearing his throat, he looked away and rubbed a hand over his face a few times, before turning back and running a finger down the curve of Artemis's ear, down over the fluttering pulse in his neck, across his narrow chest, to stroke a nipple. 

"How are you even real?" he breathed, reaching out with his other hand to try to pull Artemis into his lap.

"Magic?" Artie quipped before wrapping his arms around this gorgeous elf and dipping in for another kiss. And Artie rather liked kissing, he decided, the slide of lips against his, the tease of teeth on his lower lip. Theron swallowed the first pleased sounds Artemis didn't know he was making. "Your turn?" He tried to make it sound sexy, like an order, but it only came out as a question as Artie tugged at Theron's shirt.

The shirt came off a little too fast, and Theron got it stuck on his nose, and then tangled in his hair and caught on his wrist, before he managed to throw it across the room. Substantially more rumpled, he pulled Artemis against him, just to feel that soft, warm skin on his own. His fingers clutched at Artemis's bony back. Burying his face in Artemis's neck, he took a deep breath. "I did say you smell good, right? Because you smell amazing."

Theron spent the next few moments just sniffing and nibbling along Artemis's neck. "Taste good, too. I wonder if you taste that good everywhere."

Eyes lidded, Artemis tilted his chin, giving Theron access to more of that long neck. Each teasing nip sent a thrill to the pit of his stomach, and Theron's skin was so warm and smooth against his. Pants were starting to become a problem, and Artie shifted his hips in Theron's lap to relieve the dull ache. "Taste?" Artie repeated distractedly. He thought of that mouth moving to other parts of him and shivered. "I... well, you could find out." That was, perhaps, not the cleverest answer Artemis had ever given, but Theron's hands and lips and skin were all wonderful distractions from unimportant things like thinking.

Theron's hips rolled and one hand dragged down Artemis's chest to paw at the tight-stretched fabric of Artemis's trousers. "Having fun?" he asked, nipping playfully at the round ear beside his lips. "Want to start showing me all the places you think I should taste?"

He licked down the curve of Artemis's jaw, nibbling out to the point of that chin, then darted up for a breathless kiss, one hand on Artemis's back, and the other still grinding against strained trousers. He could feel Artemis's pulse against his palm, just a little after he felt it against his chest. Nerves? Excitement? Probably both, he decided, considering his own condition.

"Theron," Artie pleaded, unsure what he was pleading for just yet as he rocked into Theron's hand. Even through his trousers, Theron's touch felt incredible, and Artie desperately wanted to know what that felt like without any fabric in the way, just hot skin against hot skin. It occurred to Artie that that was exactly Theron's intention, and then the rest of Theron's words caught up to him, alongside images of Theron's mouth and tongue. Artemis would later perhaps be embarrassed by how eagerly he reached down to unlace his trousers, his fingers brushing Theron's.

Batting Artemis's hands aside, Theron made quick work of the laces, and then stopped, clutching the edges of Artemis's trousers. He wanted to savour this moment. Looking down, he eased the fabric apart, watching the solid, throbbing knob beneath drift forward into the space. More or less the same anatomy. He knew what to do with this.

His finger traced a lazy circle around the tip, inside the edge of Artemis's foreskin. "I haven't seen a part of you that isn't good looking, yet," he joked, sliding his hand down, to wrap his fingers around the base of the shaft... and then he was confused, as his fingers hit something unexpected. Coarse fluff. "... You... have fur? Is that a shemlen thing? Really? That is so cool!"

"I... _fur_?" Artemis blinked down at himself. There was, for the first time, a hand on his knob that wasn't his, and Theron was jabbering on about fur? "That's... that's hair. We all have hair on our... uh. Hold on, you don't?" Artemis leaned back to look Theron and up and down. He knew elves didn't grow beards, but he hadn't thought about hair in... other places. Yet every inch of Theron's torso and arms looked smooth -- _was_ smooth, as Artie's hands quickly ascertained.

"Hair stops here," Theron said, raising a hand to his eyes. "On all of us. That's --" He took a closer look at Artemis's arm, still a bit starry-eyed. "Oh, wow, I didn't even notice! That's so cool! Do you just have it everywhere?" He leaned in closer, knocking Artemis backward onto the bed, as he squinted across Artemis's chest, before rubbing his cheek against it. "More in some places and a lot less in others, I guess. I mean, I saw your brother's face-fur, but that's ... I never realised it went all the way down!"

Artemis stifled a chuckle at the word 'face-fur', as though Cormac were a hairy bear cub. "Cormac's a bit hairier than I am," he said. "I still can't quite grow a proper beard yet, but I'm getting there." Artie rubbed his jaw, where he'd shaved off his squirrelly tufts of 'face-fur' that morning. "But I never really thought about... Can I see?" Artemis looked shyly up at Theron through his lashes, his fingers hooking in Theron's waistband and giving it a suggestive tug.

Theron unlaced his own trousers as quickly as he could, standing up and shoving them down in a single motion that caught them on the boots he'd forgotten to remove. "Fenedhis," he swore under his breath. He was making a fool of himself. Hopping about, awkwardly, he managed to yank the boots off, dropping them wherever they fell out of his hands, before he yanked his trousers the rest of the way off.

He stood bare, in the middle of the room for a moment, and then flexed a bit and squared his shoulders, hoping to look more impressive. At least a little more impressive. At least more impressive than he probably looked with his mi'nehn jutting out and bobbing in front of him. Creators, he was an idiot. The tips of his ears coloured, suddenly.

"Well, if this is how you want me, can I help you out of those boots?" he purred, aiming for something a bit more confident than he felt. "Maybe we should both be naked. I think the view would be better."

Propped up on his elbows, Artemis looked up Theron's long, lean body, and he marvelled at how completely smooth it was even as his stare kept dropping back to Theron's knob in all its enthusiastic glory. Artemis could feel himself blushing again, if he had ever stopped. "I... uh." Artemis licked his lips and remembered to address Theron and not his knob. "I suppose that would only be fair." 

With a small smile, Artie bent to tug at his boots' laces, or at least at one boot while Theron attacked the other. They managed just barely to avoid knocking heads, and Theron felt Artie's sheepish laugh in the breath across his cheek.

The boots were disposed of quickly, Theron tossing them toward his own, before he grabbed the cuffs of Artemis's trousers and stood up, raising his arms. He realised what a completely terrible plan that was, when one heel bounced off the middle of his chest, knocking him back a bit, just far enough for the other one to clip him in the crotch. Knees buckling, he sank down between Artemis's legs, with a few strangled sounds. Still, the smile was fairly quick to return, if a little more lopsided.

"You know, this is where I've wanted to be from the moment I laid eyes on you," he panted, checking for lasting damage. His bits seemed to be all right aside from what was possibly going to be a small bruise, later. Maybe. "Naked and between your legs. But, maybe with a little less getting the proverbial fruit and veg rattled. That was definitely not included in that vision." He laughed weakly and ran a hand along the inside of Artemis's thigh.

"Shit, shit! I'm sorry!" Artemis ran his hands down Theron's arms, a horrified laugh caught on his lips. "I wasn't quite expecting... er. Are the fruit and veg all right?" He almost made a weak joke about kissing them better, but he didn't think his cheeks could take any more blushing. And then the reality hit him. He was naked on Theron's bed, and Theron was naked and close enough for Artie to feel his body heat.

"Nothing's broken," Theron assured him, a mischievous sparkle in the corner of his eye, as he leaned forward, ribs rubbing against Artemis's thighs, and the veg in question sliding over Artemis's own. "Why, did you want to rub your nose on it and wish it better?" he teased, making the joke Artemis had passed up.

Artemis's laugh was a bit breathless as he felt Theron settle on top of him and between his legs. It felt a bit like surrender, lying here under Theron, but a surrender Artie didn't mind making. "Well. Only if you asked nicely," he teased back, his hands tracing Theron's ribcage, feeling his chest expand with each breath, counting each breath in time to his own. Before he could get too caught up in the counting and before Theron could say anything else smart, Artie leaned up into another kiss.

That kiss was Theron's undoing, not that there was much left to undo. He melted easily into it, forgetting anything he might've meant to say, in the sudden crush of hot breath, tongues, and teeth. This gorgeous creature still wanted him, and that was all he needed to know. Warm, soft skin, with a bit of fuzz -- were all shemlen like that? Artemis acted like it was normal, so they probably were. Theron wasn't sure it mattered. He wanted this shemlen, right here. The one under him, panting and licking into his mouth.

He slipped one hand between them, stroking Artemis's mi'nehn as if it were his own, but after the third or fourth time his rolling hips drove him against his own wrist, he closed that hand around them both. It was immediately obvious that Artemis was larger, but Theron figured he'd expected that, really. Shemlen usually were bigger -- taller, broader. This, though. He hadn't thought about it, but now it was impossible to ignore, and he really hoped Artemis wasn't going to ... say something about it.

And Artie didn't. He noticed, of course, the same way he noticed all the other little details that set them apart. Like how much slimmer Theron was in the hips when Artie wrapped his legs around them. Artemis was much more interested in how that knob felt against his, hard and hot and throbbing with its own pulse. Groaning into Theron's mouth, Artemis arched up into Theron's hand and after a few false starts fell into the rhythm Theron set.

Theron pulled away from the kiss, nibbling his way down the side of Artemis's neck. This was just the beginning, and he wanted to make it last, but he was pretty sure his body had other ideas about that, and it was making those ideas increasingly obvious. He shivered and sucked at the spot where Artemis's neck became shoulder, slowing the stroking of his hand until he was just rippling his fingers along the length.

"I could put this in you, if you want," he offered, rolling his hips and grinding himself against Artemis's flesh. "And then you'll have my hand all to yourself. I mean, if that's the kind of thing you like. It's good. I like it, and I do want to give you the very best the Dalish have to offer..."

Artemis licked his lips and looked down between them to where Theron's hand gripped them both. He wanted... Well, he wasn't sure what he wanted. Theron's touch had put his mind in a pleasant haze, every shift of his hips a distraction, sending sparks of electricity through the base of his spine. He'd thought about it before, had wondered what it would feel like, but the reality was more daunting. Theron was smaller than he was, true, but that still seemed like an awful lot of elf to take in.

"We could try," Artie decided, praying this didn't end painfully. He tried to remember everything Cormac had told him about these sorts of situations. "My brother taught me a spell for this sort of... for grease."

"Magic in bed?" Theron looked surprised. "Well, that's probably going to work better than anything I have," he reasoned, nodding. "And what do you mean your _brother_ taught it to you? That's a little closer than --" He cut off suddenly, thinking of Tamlen. "No, you're right. Brothers are a much better choice than the alternative. Wait, you and your brother both have magic? I didn't think that was something shemlen had any more." He paused. "Never mind. Later. Right now you were going to make magic grease, so I can show you the incredible pleasures an elven man can offer."

The line was so cheesy it practically came with whey, and the smouldering smile that followed wasn't much better, but Theron hoped it was something like the right combination to get this going again. He was so enjoying the going and he definitely looked forward to the coming, as well.

Artemis winced, wondering if he had said too much, but the elf above him seemed more curious -- if momentarily distracted -- than disgusted or horrified by the talk of magic. "Give me your hand," Artie suggested, almost regretting it when Theron unwrapped his hand from around their knobs. Artie took that hand in his, taking a moment to admire the long fingers, before he cast. He had never been particularly good at this spell and had never cast it on someone else before, so Artemis shouldn't have been surprised when the grease spilled over, splashing onto his chest and Theron's bed.

"Maker dammit," Artie swore. "Sorry!"

Theron laughed and poured the rest of the oil across Artemis's mi'nehn, pooling it between those sharp hips. "Well, if I'm going to have to wash it out anyway..." He shrugged and slid his hand over his own flesh, before dipping his fingertips in the oil puddle and groping his way down to the firm, round cheeks of Artemis's ass. And then he reached for the oil again, because he'd wiped it all off. After three or four tries, he managed to press slick fingers against Artemis's hole, teasingly stroking at it with a single finger. "Done this before? I mean, with yourself?" he asked. "Because it's going to be a little weird for a bit, but just relax, and it'll get good." Really, he wished anyone had told _him_ that, before he and Tamlen tried it.

 "Just... just the once," Artemis admitted through another damned blush. "Sort of." He hadn't really gotten very far. It had, as Theron said, felt weird, and he hadn't been sure he'd been doing it right. But Theron seemed to know what he was doing at least part of the time, and Artie trusted him. Mostly.

Relaxing, on the other hand, was a bit more difficult. Legs open and a hand on his ass, Artie felt exposed, the air colder against greased skin. But Theron's touch was just the right kind of distracting, and Artie slowed his breathing to match the elf's.

"Breathe," Theron said, one hand gently kneading the inside of Artemis's thigh as the other pressed two fingers in, slowly and steadily. Always start with two, he'd figured out. One just felt gross. Slick, warm flesh squeezed his fingers, and his thumb rubbed lazy circles behind Artemis's balls. He cricked his fingers and stroked gently. "Good?"

This was going to be it, Theron was sure. Artemis wouldn't like it, and he'd shout, or something, and then his scary-faced older brother would come kick Theron's ass. Sweat trickled down Theron's spine, as he tried to look a lot more confident than he felt.

Artemis forced himself to hold still, to not squirm around those long fingers. Instead he chewed on his lip, his toes curling into the quilt, as he tried to consider what adjective was the right one for this. 'Weird' was still one adjective, so was 'full', but the one he went with was, "Good. Yeah." His hands kneaded Theron's arms and chest as he focused on his breathing, on the novel sensation of being touched from the inside. Theron's fingers crooked, and a soft sound caught in Artie's throat.

"Let me know what you like, and I'll do it more," Theron encouraged, catching one of Artemis's hands and nibbling at the fingertips. Stupid, he thought, after a moment. That probably wasn't sexy. Dipping Artemis's fingers in the oil, he wrapped them around his own mi'nehn. "Or just show me."

The fingers buried in Artemis's ass stroked more firmly, quicker, almost needy, as the tips rubbed against the hot flesh clamped around them. And then Theron found it -- that spot where the texture changed, the slightest bit of a curve, and he drummed his fingertips against that spot, waiting to see if the flush he knew would break out across Artemis's chest. That dark skin carried colour well, and Theron did like the look of it, a little pink.

Artemis did squirm then, lips parting in a gasp as his hips tilted into Theron's touch. _That_ was something he hadn't felt when he'd tried this alone, and now he felt cheated. "That is -- That's..." The heat rushed to Artemis's cheeks as he tried to sort out his words in the proper order. "More of that." And then it occurred to him that that sounded demanding. "Please?" He gave Theron's knob a light squeeze, fingers trailing over hot skin, grease turning the pull into a slide, and watched his face to make sure he was doing this right.

 _Oh_ , Theron thought, maybe it hadn't been such a good idea to put that hand on himself. This was going to be over a lot faster than he wanted it to be, at this rate. He tried to focus on Artemis, instead, parting his fingers a bit as he slid them back, a gentle stretch. But, watching this gorgeous shemlen writhing under him was very definitely not helping him ease back. All he could think was how pretty Artemis would look gasping as he stretched that tight hole around something far more interesting than his fingers. Stretching. Which was something he needed to keep doing, if he wanted that to happen. After a bit, he pushed in a third finger, just watching Artemis's face, waiting for something to go wrong as Artemis's ever-so-talented fingers dragged along his skin, in uncertain caresses.

"Oh, Artemis..." Theron started, sure he was going to regret opening his mouth, but not really able to stop the words spilling out. "I want to be in you. I want to be right here, between your legs, filling you up. I want to watch you -- I want to feel you..."

Small squeaking sounds punctuated each of Artie's breaths, his mouth hanging open as he adjusted to the stretch. He knew how slim Theron's fingers were, and yet they felt huge in that moment, filling him so completely. "Theron," Artemis panted. "Please. Please, please." Artie murmured the word over and over before it occurred to him that he should probably be more specific. "Please more. You. I want... _fuck_." Maker, he was terrible at this, wasn't he? "I want you. Please."

Theron bit his lip, taking a few deep breaths as his thighs clenched in anticipation. He was not going to screw this up. He was not going to spill out all over the pretty shemlen, before he even got it in. After a few more teasing strokes, he slid his fingers out, eyes on Artemis's face, as he moved. He used the same hand to oil his mi'nehn, yet again, and slipped it between those shapely cheeks. For a moment, he thought he heard giggling from outside, but he probably did. Just Tamlen getting into trouble again. But, that wasn't important. What was important was Artemis, pleading to be taken. And that was something he thought he could get used to.

He lined up and leaned in, pushing forward until he got through the hard part, the crushing grip of that first couple of inches. And just there, not even all the way in, he rocked his hips, tiny thrusts that pushed and pulled, but didn't actually move. "Like this?" he asked, sweeping more oil down from the inner curve of Artemis's hip. "You want more?"

Artemis didn't answer right away, not while there were still stars sparking in and out of existence at the edges of his vision. The stretch was dizzying, at first, and then dizzyingly perfect as, slowly, Artie adjusted. 'Relax', Theron had told him before. 'Breathe', he'd said. Doing both at the same time was, he discovered, a good idea. "Y... yes," he finally managed between shivery breaths. "More."

Artemis wrapped his legs around Theron, heels settling at the small of his back, while one hand clutched at Theron's arm, the other worrying wrinkling into the quilt.

"More?" Theron asked, shivering. Might've been desire, might've been the fact that one part of his body was now a lot warmer than the rest, might've been nerves, but he'd started to shake and twitch, teeth chattering as he pushed the rest of the way in. "I want you so much," he groaned against the curve of Artemis's ear, before running his tongue along the rim. "Wanted you like this since the first time I saw you, standing in the road -- all I could think was that I wanted your legs wrapped around me. Never seen anything like you."

As Theron tried to steady his breathing, to get himself back from the edge he'd been teetering on the edge of, he wrapped his already-greasy hand around Artemis's mi'nehn, stroking and squeezing, in time to his own slow thrusts.

'Good', Artemis decided, was no longer an adequate adjective for this. He needed to find a better descriptor... or to create a new one to match this new mix of sensations, the feeling of being filled, surrounded, and overwhelmed, his world narrowing to this one elf and the quilt at his back.

Artie felt Theron shivering and tried to wrap himself more tightly around the elf, clutching his back and shoulders and panting into his ear. Over Theron's shoulder, Artemis could see pieces of sky and the aravel's red sails, and it reminded him for a moment where he was, reminded him that there was a whole camp just outside, a camp which included his brother. Artemis closed his eyes against the sunlight and pressed his nose into the crook of Theron's neck, stifling a whimper against the skin there.

Theron moaned, a low, full sound that half the camp probably heard, and he couldn't quite bring himself to care. They all knew what he was like. They probably knew what he was getting up to, before he'd even made it back to the aravel. "So good," he panted, words serving him no better than they seemed to be serving Artemis. "So good-- I can't-- It's not going to-- I'm going to--" He writhed, nipping at the side of Artemis's neck, as he tried to drag himself back, but he could feel the tingle starting in his fingers and toes. _Nope. No, no, no. Think of something else. Anything else. That time Tamlen got thrown by the halla!_ He choked off a breathless laugh, before busying his lips with Artemis's earlobe.

"More?" he breathed. "Tell me what you want. I want to feel you come."

Every thrust sent pleasure sparking hot and cold up the base of Artemis's spine. He wasn't at the edge yet, but he was getting there, and the right push could send him over. "More," Artie agreed, letting his head fall back to the quilt, and Theron took that as an invitation to keep attacking that long neck. "I just... I need..." He didn't know how to ask for what he wanted beyond 'more' at first. He wanted more of Theron moving inside him, more of Theron's hand on his knob, but so far Theron's touch had been achingly slow and soft, and if Theron wanted him to come soon... "Harder?"

"Harder?" Theron choked out, aiming for a purr and choking on his own panting, instead. His hand quickened, roughly wringing Artemis's mi'nehn, as if it were his own. "I can give you harder. I can give you rougher, too, if you want that."

He nipped at Artemis's neck, biting a little harder just under the chin, teeth tugging at the skin that vibrated with every tiny sound Artemis made, as he worked his way down. "I'm going to leave a hundred little bites on your neck. You'll be wearing high necks and scarves for weeks, but you'll know it, every time you look, that you've gotten the very best of the Dales."

Artemis panted around a chuckle. He could always ask his brother to heal the bruises if he wanted to (and if he were willing to put up with a bit of teasing first), but Artie thought he might keep them as a souvenir. Artie was about to say something smart in reply, when a rough twist of his knob startled a full-throated groan out of him. " _Maker_ , Theron," Artie panted.

"Shh, you keep that up and your brother's going to hear us. You don't want him to walk in and catch you like this, do you? Catch you begging to be fucked hard and rough?" Theron chuckled quietly and rested his teeth to either side of Artemis's adam's apple, just to feel the next sound. His hips refused to pay attention to him, any longer, though, and his pace slowly increased, the force picking up almost immediately. 'Harder', Artemis had said, and harder was what he'd get.

Another sound choked out of Artemis at those words, but Artie bit his lip to stifle it. That was an awful thought and an awful image, but Artie's knob didn't seem to mind the idea, especially not when Theron squeezed it like that. "Oh, Theron!" Artemis panted, his heels digging into Theron's back to encourage the quicker pace. "Yes! Like that." Theron shoved into him hard enough to knock the breath from his lungs, and Artemis trembled, choking back the desperate sounds that wanted to escape. "Yes! I--! Theron!" 

Artemis clutched Theron hard enough to leave bruises, every muscle in his body tensing as each shove pushed closer, closer... And then Artemis shook so hard that it felt like the aravel was shaking with him, Theron's pants in his ear drowning out the sound of the ground rumbling beneath them, and Artie's knob pulsed in Theron's grip, spurting over his fingers. With sparks still firing off behind his eyes, Artemis laid back, panting, and wondered why the aravel's sails were fluttering so hard.

Whatever Theron said next was lost in translation and buried under the sound of creaking wood, but he finally let himself go, and as he spilled out into the gorgeous shemlen under him, several things happened very quickly. The sound of creaking wood became the sound of cracking wood, the aravel suddenly dropped half-sideways, the trunk of a tree covering most of the skylight, and the shouting from outside resolved into the door slamming open-down, to reveal an astoundingly angry other shemlen. Artemis's brother, Theron remembered, looking back toward the door, under his own arm.

"What have you done to my brother!" Cormac roared, chest a great deal broader than Theron remembered it being. "Artemis? Artie? Are you all right?"

He paused, then, the change in light finally settling into his eyes as he took in the scene, and he froze in stupefied horror. Was this better or worse than what he'd expected?

" _Cormac_?" Artemis hid his face against Theron's shoulder and tried to make himself as small as he could while still impaled on an elf. "Get out of here! What are you doing?"

Which was a stupid question. The ground had shaken, and a tree had fallen on the aravel. Had that been _him_?

"Tel'abelas," Theron said with a dazed grin. "I think you can see perfectly well what I've done to your brother."

"Not helping, Theron," Artie groaned.

"That is-- This is--" Cormac glared harder at Theron, trying to look anywhere but at his naked brother. Finally, he had to, and jabbed a finger at Artemis. "We're having a talk about this later. When you're wearing trousers. I am _not_ explaining this to dad." He paused and sighed. "But, apparently I am explaining this to the Keeper and begging for forgiveness. It's, ah... The halla are pretty flipped out and the ground's a little busted up. What did you even _do_?" He held up his hands. "No. Later. Pants. I have to go keep us from getting killed."

Cormac threw his hands up and stormed out, reaching back in to pull the door up after him, as he headed back toward the centre of camp, cheeks several shades darker than they'd been.

* * *

Artie nudged Theron out ahead of him, using the elf as a shield as they came back out into the sunlight, newly trouser-clad. He tucked his mussed hair behind his ears and remembered what Theron had said about the bite marks on his neck, but, looking around, that was the least of his worries. 

Theron looked back at the aravel, letting out a low whistle. "Fen'harel take me," he murmured. "We're lucky that tree didn't crush us!"

Artemis followed his line of sight and promptly felt ill. The fallen tree had crushed one end of the aravel, which still teetered at a dangerous angle, and around it jagged fault-lines tore open the ground. "Maker's shit," Artie cursed in kind, running a hand through his hair. "What did I do?"

Behind him, he could still hear Marethari shouting, and Artie subtly angled Theron between him and her.

Paivel and Cormac had angled themselves between Marethari and the newly be-pantsed couple, preventing her from getting close enough to address them directly. Paivel spoke softly, trying to calm her, and the only words that could be made out were 'accident' and 'children'. Merrill leaned against a nearby tree, rolling her eyes, as Tamlen cackled beside her, the gestures saying all anyone needed to know about the story he was telling. On her other side, Ghilan'asha snorted with merriment and occasionally added sound effects.

Finally, Ashalle appeared, leading a pair of nervous-looking halla. "Theron, it's all right. We'll fix it. The important thing is the two of you are still alive." She patted him on the shoulder and kissed his forehead, before turning to Artemis. "And you! Don't worry, your brother told us this had never happened before, and you had no way of expecting it. You poor thing, you must have been so scared. Don't mind the Keeper, she's just ... she gets a little overwrought, sometimes. Shemlen killed her husband, you know."

Artemis looked up at Ashalle with round eyes and tried to smile at her over Theron's shoulder. "She isn't going to kick us out, is she? I am so sorry! I had no idea that would... I mean..."

"Breathe, Artemis," Theron reminded him, taking the hand that Artie was using to tug at his hair. With his wide eyes, the shem looked every bit as skittish as the halla.

"I'm sure it's not so bad as all that," Ashalle assured him. "But, um. Perhaps in the future, you should... do whatever it was you were doing in there away from the camp?"

Artemis flushed from his neck to the tips of his ears.

Theron coughed and found the leaves above fascinating. "Yes, mamae. Not in camp. That's... I don't think that's going to be a problem." He wrapped his hand around Artemis's. "We're, ah... how ... much trouble are we in?"

Ashalle smiled slyly. "Well, Master Ilen wants to see you. It's time you learned a bit of carpentry."

"Wait, wait. _I'm_ going to fix it? That's--" Theron paused and swallowed hard. "Probably reasonable," he decided. "I mean, you're... you're not going to send Artemis away, right?"

"Young men do foolish things all the time," Ashalle assured him, laughing. "I remember all the trouble your father used to make. Don't worry about the Keeper. I'll talk to her. She'll see sense. It's good you have a shemlen friend. Maybe he'll bring us peace, one day, hm?" She looked over Theron's shoulder. "What do you think, da'len? Do you think you'll be a man who treats our people no different to your own?"

It took Artie a moment to unstick his tongue from the roof of his mouth. "I... yes, of course," he said, brows knit as though that should be obvious. "I mean, I'm a mage." No point in denying that now, if there ever was one. He mumbled most of the words to Ashalle's feet, his hand tight on Theron's. "Equal treatment isn't exactly something we're usually given either." 

Theron tilted his head, uncomprehending. Did shemlen mistreat their mages? Even pretty ones like Artemis?

Marethari's voice rose in pitch, and Theron winced at the stream of angry Elvish that fell from her lips. Ashalle turned a sympathetic look Artie's way.

"Da'len," she said, "perhaps it is best you and your brother went home for the night. By morning, her anger will have burnt out, and you can return to us then."

Artie's shoulders dropped as he turned sad eyes Theron's way. "At least let me help clean all this up? My brother and I, we could at least move the tree..." Hopefully without making anything worse.

"It's very kind of you to offer," Ashalle said, with the same amused smile she'd had for most of the conversation, "but it will be no trouble for us. Dalish magic is very much in tune with the land and trees, and I'm sure this will be a small thing for Merrill to fix up. For now, you just worry about yourself, da'len. If you're still feeling guilty, tomorrow, bring a gift to the Keeper -- maybe a quail, or those little purple berries with the sharp thorns. I don't know your word for them, but she likes them very much." She lifted her chin and shot a look at Paivel, who nodded back and patted Cormac's shoulder. "It's all right," Ashalle said again. "When Keeper Mahariel and I were young, he used to get up to far worse than this. It took years for the halla to look him in the eye, after he grew flowering vines along their horns."

"Wait, my dad did _what_?" Theron looked back at Ashalle, suddenly, gaping in shock and offence. "You never told me that! You never talk about him at all!"

Cormac stepped up behind Artemis and draped an arm around his shoulders. "If you're done breaking hearts and windows for the day, we should go find something to bring home for supper." He shrugged at Ashalle. "I am so sorry about this. We had no idea... I really never expected..."

"Mages," Ashalle scoffed. "Don't worry, he'll grow into it."

Artie covered his burning face with his hand and muttered a 'thank you' to Ashalle through his fingers and nudged his brother aside long enough to press a shy kiss to Theron's cheek, Theron's hand still tight in his. "I, um," he said softly, smile sheepish. "It was fun. Before the... tree fell on us, anyway. That was... that was less fun."

"I didn't plan on the tree," Theron replied, laughing. "But next time, I'll make sure we're better prepared." He winked at the pretty shemlen just to see that blush deepen further, before Artemis pulled away.

Next time. Artie was rather hoping there was a next time.


End file.
